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Dawn of Desire

Chapter 11: Jail Break

Sneak Peek

Donner raced down the palace corridors. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he needed some way of reaching the other gods. If he could get them to listen, or at least calm down, maybe they could work together to get out of this prison. Though, navigating the palace was more of a challenge then he thought it was going to be.

The halls weren’t uniform in the sense that they weren’t all marble and vaulted ceilings. Sometimes he’d just walk down the hall and everything would shift to dark wood and stained glass like an old church. If he kept racing down he would feel the paneling beneath his feet change to carpet and expensive Persian rugs. The palace was a patchwork of multiple designs and regions and it was getting harder to navigate. He even found a spot in the hall where he could stand right where the split happened. In one eye he saw ancient Greek statues and through the other flowing midlevel tapestries over stone. When he stepped to one side, the previous hall would bleed over to the new style and if he stepped back it would revert to the other.

If he weren’t so terrified for his life, he would spend more time examining things, but he had to find a way to help the other gods and himself.

There were a couple of double doors that he burst through and opened up into a massive library. It looked like the Abbey Library of Saint Gallen! Only instead of stationary paintings on the ceilings, there were liquid pools that showed images of places around the world, distant future and past all alike. Several books were in cases around the middle of the floors and whenever the pages flipped inside them, the images above would flicker and change, the paintings sloshing around like angry ocean waves before crashing into new images.

“So, did you come here to end me?”

Donner’s fur stood on end and he spun to look at the statue of an elderly man carved into the paneling. His eyes flickered open, the irises emerald green like leaves in the light and his sclera were the pulpy yellow of freshly cut branches.

“No,” Donner shook his head. “No, I don’t want that. I simply want to end this madness! Everyone’s gone fucking crazy!”

“Yes,” the god nodded, his body shifting through the paneling like the wood were simply a sheet that slipped over his form as he went around the library, circling it slowly. “That is the curse of us gods blessed with wisdom. We see things far too clearly where others only see opportunity.”

“So…you’re not here to hurt me?” Donner looked on at the god, his mind itching at the idea of who he might be.

“I guess that depends on what you plan to do in order to escape this prison,” the god slinked up to a clock that was carved into the apex of a doorway, the face of that time piece warping into the face of a man, his mustache a lopsided pair of clock hands. “Do you intend to break it the way you were told, or do you want to simply lay down and die. Either way, your prison will break. It was never made to last.”

“No, I just need to talk some sense into the other gods,” Donner tried to reason, but the old man simply chuckled.

“Talk sense into the gods? If that could be done, I’d be the ruler of all creation by now,” the man waived him off, his fingers pushing out from the wood like nubby oak branches. “Power changes a creature, and the more power they have, the less they are influenced by reason. Wisdom and knowledge are the tools of the weak, the equalizer of those less blessed with natural talent and ability. Who needs to be rational and just when a god is simply right.”

“What do you mean?” Donner’s brow furrowed. “Who are you?”

“You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?” The older man chuckled. “Just because I’m not a disembodied head in Oden’s arms doesn’t mean I’m any less noteworthy.”

“You’re Mimir,” Donner’s eyes went wide. “God of knowledge in Norse mythology.”

“Very good,” Mimir nodded. “Though, you can simply call me Mim if it makes things easier.”

“I thought you were dead,” Donner cocked his head.

“Death for gods is fluid,” Mim shrugged, several knots cracking. “Though, you’ve found a way to truly kill gods. You not only consume their power, but you consume their identity. A god is only as powerful as the number of mortal lips that their name is on, and when you consume them completely, replace them in the world, they truly die, cutting them off from the cycle of rebirth.”

“But I’m not the one who’s doing that, it’s Ceil,” Donner shook his head.

“Ah, if I had a krone for every runaway prophet a god denounced, I’d be able to buy my way into Valhala by now.” Mim chuckled. “In the end, it is your power, specifically your desires, that fuel this prophet of yours. Anything they do must be in line with your deepest wants if he can perform acts of this magnitude.”

“I’m trying to stop him,” Donner huffed. “I just need some help! I need everyone to stop fighting for five seconds so we can figure this out.”

“If you wanted to truly stop him, you would have,” Mim shook his head. “You must truly wish this kind of destruction if it is something you’re allowing the prophet clearance for.”

“No, he just thinks I’m the one true god or something,” Donner shook his head. “I just want to find a way we all make it out of this alive without tearing each other apart.”

“Listen, little godling,” Mim looked down at Donner with sad eyes. “Gods cannot be reasoned with. They were shaped from the previous world’s needs. Fear, destruction, anguish, love, euphoria, all of them fell from power and these are simply the relics left behind, remanence of a previous god’s reign. They won’t listen to reason, because they all believe they are in the right. You might be able to convince some gods, but I assure you, the rest will not fall into line. They never have, and they never will. It’s against their nature to bend the knee.”

“But, aren’t god’s supposed to help people? Govern aspects of the world and provide order?” Donner tried to speak out against the words Mim was saying, but something in the back of his mind told him the old god was right.

“Some, very few yes,” Mim nodded. “But most simply do it on a whim, for entertainment, to undermine another god’s power, or simply because they want to stir up trouble. This world would be better off without the gods that plague it. If you only knew a fraction of what I did, you would take the opportunity you’ve been given to eliminate some competition.”

Suddenly Donner felt something grip his wrists. Bark like vines had broken out from the walls and silently swept up and gripped onto Donner, holding him in place. The vines lashed onto his wrists and ankles before lifting him off the ground.

“My, you really are an easy one to fool,” Mim smiled warmly as light pulsed from those vines and up into the paneling. “Oh, quite refreshing too. It’ll be nice to have someone wise on top this time around.”

“Fuck! Stop!” Donner snarled, lightning curling around him, but before he could launch anything, the crashing waves from the paintings above came down and syphoned off the electricity. Any flames he tried to conjure were simply doused before they could form as he was splashed with torrent after torrent of water to keep his magic in check.

All the while, energy pulsed from those vines out into the library’s paneling, the room expanding, the old man’s face losing its wrinkles and becoming smother. The wood becoming more polished as he sapped the vitality right form Donner.

Donner snarled as he got another blast of water, tugging at the vines, his veins glowing as his divinity was sipped out of him with each pulse, those vines taking and taking. His muscles started to deflate, the definition he had melting away, his robes clinging to him loosely as his body diminished. He had to think of something fast, but how!

The effigy leash only worked if he had a symbol of the god’s power. What would Mim’s effigy be? It was getting harder and harder to think, his mind moving slower as his power was stripped from him. Donner’s struggle was getting weaker and weaker; his body looking almost like it did prior to his divinity.

“Give in little godling,” Mim spoke, his voice smooth and full of vitality, his body cracking away from the wood to reveal a powerful form, one that was growing with every second. His golden hair and green eyes flowed like water, his form covered in healthy, silky blond body hair, his muscles pronounced and powerful. “It’s time we had a true ruler on heaven’s throne.”

This was it. Donner felt his vision fading, his body growing gaunt as his life was syphoned off of him. His heart ached, like it was getting harder and harder to beat as he was held there. Then he felt it, his divinity slipped out of him, gone and rolled down those vines. He was mortal…he was dying…

Then something inside him cracked.

It was a pool of power, a font of unyielding strength. Donner’s copper eyes flashed open as the raw power he had fit into a mold broke out. It was like the sun rapidly rising over the horizon, the night sky exploding in his chest into sparks and stars! He finally understood what Ceil meant when he said he was limiting himself. The powers he pretended to have, the ones he made up, the limitations that Reihner placed on him were almost childish training wheels and now he was going from a tricycle to a fighter jet!

Donner’s wrists twisted and gripped onto the vines, his thin fingers belying the strength of that iron grip.

“So, you’ve finally come out to play Donner,” Mim smiled, the light pulsing out of his body and back down into those vines.

“Give it back!” Donner snarled. “I want it BACK!”

It was like father time smacked Mim with several millennia all at once, his gorgeous body withering, his muscle and vitality ripping off him and making him a near skeleton and skin as it roared back through those vines, the light coursing through Donner’s veins. It started with his hands, the fingers writhing, the veins throbbing beneath his skin before explosively expanding. Each hand burst back to its original size and even a bit larger! The golden light bled into electric blues, coursing through Donner’s veins before each muscle group started to shudder before shunting back into ripped relief. Donner’s head was thrown from side to side as his delts’ growth tossed it, his hair getting longer and more silky as he packed on Mim’s power. His mind opened up, millennia of unresolved conflict from the gods fighting with one another washed and seeped into the folds of his brain. Time and time again the gods destroyed themselves and the earth only to come back as different deities through the cycle of rebirth, not caring the lives they trampled or destroyed.

Donner’s powerful foot paws hit the ground, a light rumble rattling through the library as the images on its walls became stagnant, the crumpled body of Mim trying to crawl to the wood paneling, only for Donner to lift his foot and slam it down on the pitiful god. A sickening crack filled the room, the weak god’s ribcage collapsing as his body fell in on itself, sliding up into Donner’s body through his sole. The coyote didn’t mean to do it, it was more out of reflex to keep Mim from doing anything else, but when the god’s mind merged with his, the clever god’s plan became clear.

Mim never intended to win this fight, but simply bring out Donner’s true potential. A god with wisdom needed to be on the throne of heaven, and it was Mim’s hope that Donner could be that god. Donner looked at his own hands, the thick mitts of power sparked with energy, the power of nature tingling between his fingers as the elements danced between his claws. He didn’t gain much size from Mim, but he gained something far more important.

Perspective.

Donner now knew how the gods treated humanity. They trapped Rapture to allow the lesser gods to run the world as they saw fit, tearing it apart, destroying it, dominating it without giving anything back besides what was needed for their own survival. The world needed a crowning deity, and the rest of these gods needed to be stopped or brought to heel.

A growl rolled up in Donner’s throat. This was the truth that Ceil had kept form him. This was the truth the lion was using to bend his powers. Had Donner known, he would have done the same, anything to free the world of the of previous gods’ tyranny. Donner wasn’t just a crowning deity in the making, he was hope incarnate for a world that was the lesser gods’ play thing.

“No more hiding. Time to go on the offensive,” Donner gripped the vines and whipped them like workout rope, the massive vines disappearing in a shower of sparks before Donner’s power willed the raw energy into something new. The golden sparks flashed electric blue before snapping into Donner’s hands, leaving streaks of light before solidifying into a duo of coppery daggers, sapphires the size of golf balls adorning the hilts.

“It’s time these false gods got what’s coming to them,” Donner snarled.

***

Mixcoatl stood over a bonfire, a stag spit roasted over the flames as the dead body of the moon goddess laid on the ground motionless while the successful god of the hunt cleaned golden ichor from his arrows.

“You Greek and Roman whores are always a pain in the ass,” Mixcoatl huffed as he put his arrows back in his quiver. “No matter how many times we cut you down, you always find a way to crawl back up because of your damn poetry and half-baked epics.”

He spat on the ground, his saliva glittering with stars.

“At least I don’t have to deal with you for a few months,” Mixcoatl sneered at his arrows as he scrubbed away the goddess’s blood. No sooner had he said that, the god’s ears perked up. He spun around, pulling up his bow and knocking an arrow.

“You dare sneak up on me!”

The god of the hunt glared, his star like eyes blazing as he bore them on the storm coyote that stood no more than twenty paces from him.

“Trust me Mixie,” Donner kept stepping forward, his foot paws hitting the stone. “If I didn’t want you to see me coming, you wouldn’t have.”

Mixcoatl loosed an arrow, the single shot glowing like a shooting star before breaking into half a dozen arrows. The strands of light slipped through Donners image, his body shimmering and wobbling.

“What?” Mixcoatl furrowed his brow. “A decoy?”

“That’s right,” Donner snarled in his ear, a duo of blades melting into reality as Donner became visible. “I told you, if I wanted you to see me, you would have.”

“What do you want,” Mixcoatl was stoic in his response, he was beat, he knew it.

“I want to see your heart,” Donner rumbled, his fangs bare and brushing the god’s ear. “I want to know what you’ve done to deserve being a god.”

“It is what I am,” Mixcoatl simply answered. “I don’t understand your question.”

That was okay, because Donner didn’t need him to understand. The coyote understood his power on a more fundamental level now that Mim’s knowledge rolled through his mind. Donner wanted to know what was in the god’s heart, he wanted it. It seemed so simple, but it truly was different than thinking of a solution or answer. Donner was want and desire incarnate, humanity’s ever hungry need for more, and he wanted answers.

And so he had them.

Donner saw all of Mixcoatl’s deeds, his immortal life flashed before the coyote’s eyes, his memories swirling around him and the true reasons why he did what he did. Sure, there were plenty of good things, but they were for all the wrong reasons. All of Mim’s theories panned out. Everything the god did was for himself in the end. Every selfless deed a lie of omission, every act of heroism a publicity stunt, and every act of charity a tedious theft from another.

“I find you wanting,” Donner snarled and slashed his daggers across the god’s throat. Instead of flesh and blood, rays of sunlight and Milky Way slush splattered out of that gaping wound. Donner opened his maw and sucked. He didn’t breath in with his lungs, but with his gut. A screeching soul was ripped from that body, all colors of the sunset and galaxy stars spiraled out of the god’s torn throat, his cries of pain choked on by his own soul ripping form his body. Donner gulped that divinity down like it was the last cock on earth, slurping and guzzling the flavor of a god of the hunt and night sky.

He tasted like a fresh kill, the blood of a beast on his fangs, the warmth of summer tea and the chorus of frogs and crickets at night. He majesty of the night sky and the cover of night and shadow peppered by stars twinkled and fizzed down his throat.

Mixcoatl’s body fell to the ground, his skin ashen, his eye’s nothing but sockets as he crumbled to ash while that soul fought in Donner’s gut. The supernova casting the shadow of his abs writhed in anger in that stomach before it slowly bled over to the electric blue. Donner could feel it fighting, desperately trying, and failing, to beat it’s way to freedom. Soon the punches became pitiful grasps before unbecoming in his stomach into a ball of raw power.

“Thanks Mixie,” Donner rumbled, flexing his abs before doing a vacuum crunch. That was that last push that forced the energy to blaze through Donner’s veins. “You’ll make things much easier to hunt down who I need to.”

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